


mahfaeraak (forever)

by extremelyquestionable (TechnicalTragedy)



Category: The Derp Crew (Youtube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Angst, Character Death, Claiming Bites, Dragon Steven, Dragonborn Anthony, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:04:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicalTragedy/pseuds/extremelyquestionable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of sleep, Viintaas is awake. He swears his allegiance to Alduin, as is only logical to do, and goes back to his life as it had been before he was killed. He meets the Dragonborn, Anthony, who is foolish but kind and brave, and he is drawn toward him like a moth to a flame. Loyalties will be questioned, barriers will be breached, and friendship will be found in all the wrong places, but Viintaas is powerless to stop it. It was never his destiny to be great, but Anthony makes him feel like he could be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> goodness gracious, i've been working on this thing for around a month now? i'm glad it's finally done, and i hope you guys will enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!
> 
> (also hover over the links for dovahzul translations)

Waking up is an arduous task for a dragon who has been sleeping for years. He stirs from slumber like the embers of a burning fire reawakening at a touch, molten metal eyes slowly lifting open. He doesn't understand why he's no longer sleeping, but he revels in the slow shift as his joints unlock from their positions and the delicious popping he feels as he stretches his wings.

 

Viintaas takes his first breath of air in centuries, feeling the cold turn to burning heat in his lungs. He breathes again, ecstatic to be able to do so, and with his next breath feels his heart stop at the voice from behind him.

 

"Hi los praad," the voice says, and Viintaas turns cautiously, coming face to face with Alduin himself.

 

His wings stir in surprise, before Viintaas purposely arranges them in a way that suggests inferiority and submission, an acknowledgement that he is facing his better. Alduin sees his efforts and his wings fan out a bit to recognize it, and to signal to Viintaas that he can speak.

 

"Zu'u drey ni zent wah praad einzuk," the newly reawakened dragon admits, and tilts his head in curiosity. "Lost daar dreh, Alduin?"

 

Alduin says nothing, but his wings shift in confirmation. Alduin is going to do something terrible, Viintaas knows, and he also knows that Alduin will expect him to follow, as he did the last time he did something terrible.

 

"Alduin," Viintaas begins, and when the large dragon's wings stiffen, he quickly backtracks, "Zeymah. Alduin, fos los mein?"

 

Alduin huffs and scrapes the ground with his claws, leaving long scores in the hard earth. "Zu'u fen geblaan fos Zu'u hel tir wah dreh ko gon," he says, and his eyes cut up to Viintaas's, calculating. "Fen hi aav zey, zeymah?"

 

Viintaas looks away, sighing. He knows what Alduin wants, but what Alduin wanted got him killed last time. He knows he was dead, that Alduin somehow brought him back, but he doesn't want to be dead again.  Viintaas exhales a puff of smoke, frustrated at his indecision. He's torn between loyalty to Alduin and self-preservation. Alduin's tail snakes into view, and curls around Viintaas's right foreleg.

 

"Kriist areid zey ko grah. Zu'u lost drun hi nol dinok ahrk kriist areid hi fah bok. Kriist areid zey nu," the Destroyer of Worlds says, sounding more gentle than Viintaas has heard him since they were young whelps.

 

Viintaas sighs again, but raises his head to meet Alduin's eyes. "Geh, zeymah. Zu'u fen kriist voth hi," he says, and Alduin's tail slips away as he stands, victorious.

 

"Zu'u lost zuk dovah wah praad vok. Zu'u nox hi fah hin skilaan. Mu los tul zeymah, mindin pah daar tiid," Alduin says, spreading his wings. "Erei mu borii grind," he calls as a farewell, letting his wings lift him into the air and flying away, leaving Viintaas to stare after him, unsure if he was telling his brother the truth or not.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

The Dragonborn is unsubtle as he makes his trek up the mountain. His armor clinks and clanks and he's shouting in Dovahzul, calling upon ancient words of power that Viintaas hasn't heard in ages. He hadn't expected the Dragonborn to come to him so soon after he'd been woken up, but he's been expecting a visit.

 

Viintaas flares his wings out, letting them stretch to their full span before folding them back along his body. He settles down to wait.

 

It doesn't take as long as he thought it would, but Viintaas isn't surprised at all when the Dragonborn charges up the remainder of the path, sword at the ready.

 

"Beast!" the Dragonborn calls, face obscured by his helmet. "I am here to kill you."

 

Viintaas is a bit disappointed that the Dragonborn didn't even bother to speak to him in Dovahzul, but he understands the universal nature of Commontongue. "Perhaps if you plan to kill me, you should not announce it before you do so," he remarks drily, sitting up and wrapping his tail around his front feet like a giant cat, attempting to appear as casual and nonthreatening as a dragon can.

 

The Dragonborn is clearly surprised at the comment, and his sword dips down a bit. "You can understand me?" he asks, and Viintaas can't help the throaty chuckle that escapes at that.

 

"You think we dovah cannot understand the human tongue?" he asks, taunting, and it raises the Dragonborn's defenses again. "I have lived much longer than you, Dragonborn, and I know much more than you could ever hope to."

 

The Dragonborn's grip tightens on his sword, and he takes a short step forward. "You will not live much longer, dragon!" he says, and Viintaas feels almost sorry for him.

 

"I am not interested in fighting you, Dragonborn. It is a battle you would not win, besides," Viintaas informs him, and the Dragonborn straightens, seemingly taking offense to this slight against him.

 

"If you won't fight me, then just stay still while I kill you," he says, and charges. Viintaas has enough time to heave out a put-upon sigh before he's winding around the Dragonborn, sneaking his tail under him so the Dragonborn trips over it and lands with a loud metallic thud on his chest. The Dragonborn groans in pain, but stays laying down.

 

Viintaas easily knocks his weapon away and nudges him with a claw. "Are you well, Dragonborn? The sound you made as you hit the ground did not seem good."

 

"I think my fucking ribs are broken," the Dragonborn moans, and Viintaas rolls his eyes before shifting into human form so he can better help the Dragonborn.

 

"The only way to find out if that's true is to look at them. I am going to pick you up, Dragonborn. I will be very careful, but if it hurts let me know," Viintaas says, trying to make his voice sound soothing. He gingerly scoops the Dragonborn into his arms, and there's some weak resistance, but for the most part the Dragonborn just lets Viintaas carry him inside his cave, where he goes deeper and deeper into the mountain until he sets the Dragonborn down on a pile of furs in a comfortably-sized, well-lighted cave room.

 

Once Viintaas has removed the Dragonborn's helmet, the man blinks up at Viintaas and glances around. "Nice place, for a dragon. Hey, do all dragons also come in human variety?" he asks, and Viintaas sighs before starting in on his armor.

 

The Dragonborn asks more pointless questions, as Viintaas figures he will, and Viintaas continues to ignore them until the Dragonborn's armor is in a heap beside the pile of furs and Viintaas can safely check for broken bones, bruises, or scrapes.

 

Viintaas peels the Dragonborn's undershirt away, astutely ignoring the color rising high on the human's cheeks, and gently checks him for injuries, finding only a few trouble spots where the armor appears to have pressed too hard against the skin too hard and broken it and a few ribs that are probably bruised.

 

Clicking his tongue against his sharp teeth in disapproval, Viintaas goes and fetches a light poultice, returning quickly to dab it over the Dragonborn's wounds. He frowns at the Dragonborn when he's done, and sets the poultice down next to him.

 

"You are a foolish man, Dragonborn. Hi los mey wah unt ahrk krif zey," he hisses, and prods him in the chest with a clawed finger. "But you are my guest. Sleep, for now. The journey up the mountain is buruk, difficult. When you wake I will be here with food and water."

 

The Dragonborn's forehead creases in confusion. "Why would you do that? Why are you being so, so nice?"

 

Viintaas smiles mirthlessly, rising to his feet. "Not all dovah are bloodthirsty killers, Dragonborn. So long as you are no danger to me, I seek to cause you no harm. I find your quest to be, ah," he searches for the correct word, "nonvul. Noble. You wish to prevent to end of Nirn, geh? To stop Alduin? It is a noble quest, if foolish."

 

The Dragonborn frowns slightly, but doesn't say anything for a long minute, long enough that Viintaas turns to leave before being stopped by his voice. "Anthony," the Dragonborn says, and Viintaas looks back at him, puzzled. The Dragonborn smiles easily. "My name is Anthony. I appreciate your kindness, dragon."

 

Viintaas stares at him for another long silent moment before replying, "In Dovahzul my name is Viintaas. The humans I have known in the past have preferred to call me Steven. Either is amenable."

 

Anthony's smile stretches into a grin and he settles back onto the pile of furs, shifting to get more comfortable. Viintaas, or Steven, watches him for a little while longer before leaving the cavern room to retrieve food and fresh water for both himself and his guest.

 

When the Dragonborn wakes up, Viintaas is waiting beside him meditating, but not deeply enough that he doesn't realize when Anthony is awake. He lets the Dragonborn remind himself of where he is and get acquainted with his surroundings, then shifts into full consciousness, blinking his eyes open and turning to look at Anthony.

 

Viintaas holds out a small bag and a skin of water. "Food and drink," he says, at Anthony's hesitation. "I do not wish harm to come to you."

 

Anthony scowls and takes the bag and the water. "You said that. I still have a hard time believing it." He fiddles with the bag for a second, not trying to open it at all. "How do I know this isn't poisoned or something?"

 

Viintaas smiles, finding himself amused at the human's distrust. "If I wanted to kill you, Dovahkiin, you would be dead," he tells him, and Anthony blanches, looking away from Steven to open up the bag in his hands.

 

After the first tentative bite, he devours his food as if he's never eaten before. Viintaas watches him, fascinated by his dull human teeth. He hasn't seen human teeth in a long while, and he'd almost forgotten how different, yet still similar, they were to his own. As he examines the Dragonborn's face, Viintaas realizes something.

 

"You are not a Nord, are you?" he asks, and Anthony coughs, drinking quickly to clear his throat.

 

"No, no," he says, wiping at the corners of his mouth with the inside of his wrist. "I'm from Cyrodiil. Kvatch, actually. My home seems to turn out a certain breed of individual, huh?" he asks, obviously rhetoric, but Viintaas is confused. He must have missed something.

 

"What breed of individual does Kvatch turn out?" the dragon asks, and Anthony looks at him strangely.

 

"Um, well, there was the Hero of Kvatch. The one that stopped the Oblivion Crisis? And now me, the Dragonborn, Dovahkiin, whatever. Kvatch makes heroes. The stuff of legends, I guess," the Dragonborn answers, still staring oddly at Steven.

 

Viintaas frowns, still unsure of what they're talking about. "Who is the Hero of Kvatch? What is the Oblivion Crisis?"

 

Anthony's look turns incredulous. "You don't know? You must have slept for a long time, Steven. Unless...were you one of the dragons Alduin raised? You are a reanimated corpse," he breathes, looking amazed.

 

Viintaas bares his teeth at the Dragonborn, displeased at his conclusion. "I am a dovah, as I have always been."

 

The Dragonborn shakes his head, sitting up straighter. "No, no, you are a dragon, I know. You were dead, though. You were dead, and then you were brought back to life by Alduin. You're like a draugr. You don't look much like a corpse, though. It's weird and honestly kinda gross."

 

Steven hisses at him, tail thrashing behind him. "Dreh ni med zey wah hefahus diil, Dovahkiin. Zu'u lost kosaan eylok wah hi, nuz hi fen doj fir fah daar wo los pruz fein hi," he growls, and without realizing it, he had at some point crawled over the Dragonborn, so he was now staring down at him with fire burning in his lungs.

 

Anthony's eyes are wide and fearful, and Viintaas, sickeningly, takes pleasure in that fact. His lips pull back from his teeth again, as much of a snarl as it is a smile, and he plants one hand beside the Dragonborn's head, the other going to press lightly at his throat. Anthony's breath catches, and his lips part as if he would say something, but Viintaas presses on his throat, encouraging silence.

 

"Hi faas zey, Dovahkiin? Tol los pruzah. Hi fend faas zey. Dii jusk los ahst hin ruus. Zu'u vust krii hi nu, waan Zu'u ful hind," Viintaas digs his claws into the Dragonborn's throat, leaving tiny little pinpricks in the delicate flesh. He leans close, and Anthony doesn't try to squirm away or even move at all, only just daring to take shallow breaths. "I am dovah, kiir. To suggest otherwise is vofir. Disrespect. Dovah do not tolerate disrespect."

 

Anthony swallows, and Viintaas loosens his grips on the Dragonborn's throat. "Sorry," he gasps, and Viintaas frowns. He's always hated the human word for apology.

 

"Krosis," he corrects, and at Anthony's expression of confusion, elaborates, "If you are to apologize to me, you will say krosis."

 

Anthony shifts minutely, looking uncomfortable at the order. "Krosis," he begrudgingly amends, and Steven's fingers flex against his throat again before releasing him. The dragon rises to his feet without ceremony, staring down at the Dragonborn as his hand goes to massage at his neck.

 

"Those do not require attending to. You will finish your food and drink, I will bring you more for your journey, and you will be on your way," Viintaas tells Anthony, and turns to retrieve more food and another skin of fresh water.

 

When he comes back, Anthony has finished his food and is trying to put his armor back on. Wordlessly, Steven sets down what he's carrying and moves to help him and, without even a flinch, the Dragonborn accepts the assistance. Viintaas leads Anthony back up through the caves, and when they're back up on top of the mountain, the dragon hands the Dragonborn the extra food and water he had promised.

 

Anthony frowns at the supplies, and looks up at Steven. "You're strange," he says, and Viintaas shrugs.

 

"I have been told so before," he replies easily, and the Dragonborn hums thoughtfully.

 

"Would you try to kill me if I came back at some point?" he asks, and Viintaas looks at him with confusion.

 

The dragon allows himself a moment of thought before he answers. "I would not attempt to kill you or cause you undue harm, but I must admit that I am confused as to why you would wish to return."

 

This seems to be a question that is easy to answer, as Anthony grins. "You're the only one who doesn't treat me like I'm some deity just because I'm the Dragonborn. You aren't afraid to put me in my place, and I guess I appreciate that. You told me when I was being an idiot, and then patched me up after I was an idiot. You're nice, for a dragon."

 

Viintaas frowns at him, but nods. "I suppose all of that is true. If you wish to return, you are welcome to. For now, you should be on your way. Morning is quickly ending and the closest village will take you the remainder of the day to reach on foot."

 

"Thanks, Steven," Anthony says, and turns to leave, calling over his shoulder, "Farewell, dragon!"

 

Viintaas allows himself a tiny smile. "Aal faraan niif nau hi, Dovahkiin," he says as Anthony disappears from sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Months pass uneventfully. Steven's memories of Anthony grow fuzzy, but he doesn't forget. A dragon does not forget. News comes by way of Laatkul, one of the few dovah who speak to Viintaas, and there is much news on the activity of the Dragonborn.

 

"Faal Dovahkiin lost krii ahst suk sok dovah ruzun Alduin praad mii," Laatkul says, scowling. "Sok do un zeymah, dilon. Alduin naram zuk rahgron enook sul."

 

Viintaas sighs, his tail wrapping idly around his calf. "Fos dreh Alduin hind wah dreh?" he asks, looking up at Laatkul through his eyelashes.

 

Laatkul shakes his head, tail thrashing violently behind him before he forces it to still. "Mu dreh ni mindok. Rok los vuldrus, Viintaas."

 

They lapse into silence for a long while, Viintaas gnawing on his bottom lip enough to hurt but not enough to draw blood. "Lost Alduin laan mindin zey?" Viintaas asks, and Laatkul sighs.

 

"Rok tovok fod hi fen helt iliis ahrk aav vorey ko grah," Laatkul admits, and Viintaas frowns.

 

"Alduin mindok Zu'u los vothni nuft ko kein," Viintaas says, and his green companion bares his teeth.

 

"Mu pah mindok tol, Viintaas," he growls. "Hi nis jaaril hinmaar. Hi los med kiir."

 

Viintaas feels his tail tighten around his leg, and he flashes his teeth at Laatkul. "Hi faazrot zey ko dii meyar hofkiin, ol dii yunaar?" he asks, and Laatkul rolls his eyes.

 

"Zu'u tinvaak vahzen, Viintaas," he corrects. "Vahzen los ni faazrot."

 

Viintaas shakes his head, a sigh on his lips. "Hi fund ni lorot ful," he says, and offers nothing more until Laatkul leaves, the sound of his wings beating the air reaching where Viintaas lays curled on the pile of furs that had once held the man who was supposed to be his greatest enemy.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

Dovah do not get lonely. They are creatures designed to go centuries, perhaps even their whole lives, alone. Just because a dragon cannot be lonely doesn't mean that Viintaas isn't feeling the strangest relief at seeing Anthony again.

 

The Dragonborn is grinning widely, plodding up the mountain in his heavy armor, his large sword strapped to his back. Viintaas can make out Anthony's changed features: his longer hair, the dark circles beneath his eyes, the long scratch trailing down his cheek and ending halfway down his neck. It's odd to feel a surge of concern at his appearance.

 

Anthony and Steven don't greet each other with words. Not this time. When Anthony is close enough, Steven's tail shoots forward, wrapping around Anthony's wrist and tugging at him. The Dragonborn looks incredulously from the tail to its owner, smiling delightedly, and Viintaas shrugs as if his tail were simply an unruly child. Viintaas turns and begins walking back to the shelter of his caves, Anthony trailing along behind him.

 

The Dragonborn removes his armor, and then Steven offers his guest food, which is graciously accepted. Gracious, of course, being a relative term, since Viintaas is uncertain if Anthony could be anything but crass and loud, even in gratitude. Even as they eat, together this time, Steven's tail remains protectively curled around Anthony, or draped over his thighs, or even resting against his waist. Anthony appears inordinately amused, while Viintaas is puzzled about his tail's particularly curious behavior. However, since the Dragonborn seems delighted by it, there is no effort made to put a stop to it.

 

The cave remains warm and lighted even as the dragon's internal clock informs him of the impending night, and Viintaas finds himself wondering if the Dragonborn is growing tired yet. Humans do not typically remain awake at all hours of the day, much unlike dragons, who can go for long, long periods of time without real sleep, instead going into meditative trancelike states to conserve and rebuild energy.

 

As if in answer to the unspoken question, Anthony yawns, his spine popping as his body arches. He rubs at his eyes afterwards, frowning. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" he asks Steven.

 

"It is nearing midnight," the dragon tells him, and Anthony nods thoughtfully.

 

"Would you mind if I stayed the night?" he asks as a follow-up.

 

Viintaas frowns. "I had expected nothing else. You will sleep on the pile of furs again, and I will be here with more food when you wake up. Humans typically engage in a meal just after waking up, yes?"

 

Anthony seems almost disbelieving for a moment, before a wide smiles crests his face. "Yeah, it's called breakfast. There's usually eggs and bacon and sausage and milk and stuff."

 

Steven nods, memorizing the foods that had been listed so he could go out and find them before Anthony woke. "Do you remember where the fur pile is?"

 

The Dragonborn clambers to his feet, still smiling. "I remember. Thanks for letting me stay."

 

"You are welcome here at any time, Dovahkiin," Viintaas replies easily, and Anthony looks nearly taken aback, certainly confused, but his smile seems to grow, and Steven feels a wriggling warmth in his chest, oddly pleased at being the reason why Anthony is smiling like that.

 

As the Dragonborn sleeps, Viintaas goes out in search of eggs. He has a vague idea of what bacon is, but knows what sausage is, so he looks for pigs as he's flying around. When he gets back to his cave with what he thinks is the right stuff, he strings it up and roasts it with a brief breath of dragonfire, hoping it doesn't burn it completely. It doesn't, but the food does look very slightly charred. Steven hopes Anthony doesn't mind.

 

Anthony does not mind. He eats as if never has before, and Steven wonders why, watching with a morbid curiosity as the Dragonborn's teeth rip into his meal. Viintaas is unsure if his fascination is normal, decides it isn't when Anthony keeps shooting him what he probably believes to be surreptitious looks, and he drags his eyes from the sight. The dragon, while he waits for the Dragonborn to finish eating, allows himself to slip into a light meditative state to help restore his energy, but without going deep enough to impair his senses.

 

When Anthony finishes his food, Steven rouses himself, blinking his eyes open and turning to look at the Dragonborn, who is watching him curiously.

 

"Were you just sleeping?" the human asks, and Viintaas thinks for a moment, wondering how to answer this question.

 

"No," he eventually settles on. "Dovah do not normally sleep. We only need hadriidak, meditation, in your tongue, to restore our glimrel. Dovah only sleep in the way humans consider when the Lingrahlaag comes, the Long Sleep."

 

Anthony's appears even more curious. "The Long Sleep? What's that?"

 

Steven wonders how much he should reveal to the human, then decides there's no harm in explaining to him, since the Dragonborn will be long gone by the time the Lingrahlaag comes. "The Lingrahlaag is a period of time in which dovah rest. All dovah are affected by it, and they all sleep for long periods of time. It can be months, years, centuries long," he explains, and Anthony nods thoughtfully.

 

"So could you kill a dragon during Lingerlag?" he asks, and Viintaas frowns.

 

"Lingrahlaag," he corrects, and carefully shrugs. "I suppose you could kill a dovah during the Lingrahlaag. Are you planning on waiting until I sleep and then putting a knife in my back?"

 

The Dragonborn grins widely, "Why would I kill you? You aren't a bad dragon. I was thinking maybe I would kill Alduin in his sleep instead."

 

Viintaas shakes his head. "The Lingrahlaag will not come for a long time, Dragonborn. You will be long dead by the time the Lingrahlaag comes for Alduin."

 

Anthony frowns and stares at Steven for a long time. "If I asked, would you help me fight Alduin?" he finally asks, quiet.

 

"You cannot ask that of me, Dovahkiin," Viintaas says, and Anthony hopes he isn't imagining the sadness in the dragon's eyes. Though it isn't much of an answer, Anthony thinks it says more than a yes or no ever could.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

Viintaas hears word of a civil war ravaging the human landscape. Unsurprisingly, the Dragonborn is at the center of events. The details are hazy, so hazy that Steven isn't even sure which side Anthony is fighting for, but he knows that, whatever choices the Dragonborn makes, Skyrim will be forever changed when all is said and done.

 

The Dragonborn doesn't come to visit for months, but Viintaas finds himself hoping Anthony will return. Mid Year, Sun's Height, Last Seed, Heartfire, Frostfall, Sun's Dusk, Evening Star, Morning Star. They all blend together into one day that slogs on and on, until, one week after the human's New Life Festival, the familiar clanking comes over the mountain, and Steven goes to greet the human.

 

Anthony has new scars, and Steven's tail worries over them, tracing them and pushing at his shaggy hair, snaking between his fingers, worming under his loose-fitting clothes, and finally the Dragonborn simply grabs it, gently, of course, and allows it to wrap around his wrist, hoping that will satisfy it. His eyes are shuttered and he seems to be a different man than he was all those months ago.

 

They sit in silence until Viintaas turns to the Dragonborn, eyeing his familiar-yet-unfamiliar features again, reminded of the last time he'd seen him and he'd been so changed. He looks away, staring at the flickering torchlight. "You are a different man each time you come here," Steven says, and feels Anthony's eyes on him, but doesn't look over.

 

"It's a great responsibility, being the Dragonborn," Anthony says by way of explanation, and Viintaas nods, looking down at his clawed fingers and thinking about the time he'd held this man by the throat.

 

"I find that I regret the way the world is changing you," Viintaas hesitantly admits, and Anthony's eyes are a fire brand against his face. "You are not so carefree as I remember, not so young and open."

 

The Dragonborn puts his fingertips against the only part of Steven's tail he can reach because of the awkward angle, and the touch soothes the frayed nerves Viintaas hadn't realized he had. "I am the same man I once was," Anthony assures him, but when Steven finally turns to look at him he can see the differences between what once was and what is.

 

"Zu'u staavek jul hi ont lost," Viintaas says, because saying the words in any other way might open a chasm too deep for him to fill. He isn't sure if the Dragonborn understands the words, but he understands their meaning and the feeling behind them. "You have made a long journey. You must be tired."

 

Anthony doesn't allow the deflection, pressing his fingers into Steven's tail. "The war ended in Evening Star," he offers, without any elaboration.

 

Viintaas, finding himself curious as to where that thought leads, quirks an eyebrow at him, an invitation to continue, and the Dragonborn smiles, a brilliant reflection of his old self.

 

"I was...afraid, to come back here," he says, and glances away briefly, before determinedly bringing his gaze back to meet Steven's. "I had been gone for the greater part of a year. I worried you wouldn't remember me."

 

"Zu'u vust ni vodahmaan hi," comes the immediate answer, and Anthony smiles.

 

"That was something about not forgetting me, right?" he asks, and, almost embarrassedly, Viintaas nods.

 

"I could not forget you," Steven says. There is a moment there, the silence heavy and stagnant, full of things unsaid and untouched, and then the tail around Anthony's wrist twitches and a smile breaks over his face like the dawn over the horizon.

 

The Dragonborn nods and looks away, the tension in his cheeks proof of his continuing grin. "I feel the same - I mean, you know, I could never forget you. We've only met, what, twice? I, weirdly, feel like you're my best friend in all of Tamriel."

 

Viintaas feels his lips twitch up into a smile over his slightly-protruding teeth, his tail tightening around Anthony's wrist in his sudden, uncontainable joy. "I have not had many friends. The life of a dovah is a solitary one. I...would be honored to be your friend," the dragon says, and Anthony reaches for him, taking his hand in his and squeezing his fingers, the full intensity of his smile now turned on Steven.

 

"This isn't normal. You know that, right? None of it is. Dragons being able to take human shape, dragons being friends with humans, much less the Dragonborn himself? You, at all?" Anthony asks, but his expression tells Steven he need not answer. "We aren't typical, though. I'm a human with the soul of a dragon, and you...you're like a dragon with the soul of a human. In the best possible way, nothing about us is usual."

 

Steven's smile grows as he thinks on Anthony's words. The complement each other in the way he describes, if not complete each other. It's a pleasant thought, one that sends happiness radiating out from his very core, the molten heart inside his chest pulsing with the emotion. "Nii los pruzah truk Zu'u los ni wo Zu'u lost vorohah wah kos," Viintaas says, and he feels reborn.

 

The Dragonborn watches as his dragon reignites his own ashes, and feels blinded by his brilliant light.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so begins the sex chapter...

It is difficult to not feel overshadowed, especially when stood beside Alduin, Destroyer of Worlds. Viintaas has never felt smaller than Alduin, and it is an odd experience. With wings spread wide, as wide they can go, the Destroyer looks at Viintaas with flames licking at his eyes and burning in his throat.

 

"Hi fund unad jul avok zey? Hi fund tahlok wah faal Dovahkiin med smahlu wo bolaav ok enook hind?" Alduin demands, and Viintaas strives to hide his fear.

 

"Zu'u fund. Faal Dovahkiin lost nonvul drun," he answers, and the defiance tastes bitter on his tongue.

 

"Hi los mey, zeymah. Mu vust rel pahvoth, wahl pah do jul kreh niist kru wah mii," the Destroyer hisses, claws raking across the ground and throwing up sparks. He visibly attempts to calm himself, to rein in the ancient rage in his chest. "Aav zey, dii goraan zeymah. Aav zey wah faal Dovahkiin, hiif zey kos govir do mok."

 

Viintaas draws himself up to his full height, sending his wings to their full span and glaring at Alduin. "Zu'u lost unadaan," he tells his brother, and the Destroyer curls his lip in disgust, turning from the dragon who has suddenly and unexpectedly found his courage.

 

"Lif. Dreh ni daal. Nii aal kos meyus, nuz ol hi los dii zeymah Zu'u fen vos hi wah lif pruzah. Hon daar, Viintaas, Zu'u fen krii hi waan Zu'u nok miin nau hi einzuk," Alduin spits, refusing to look at Viintaas, and after a moment he hears the dovah take his leave silently.

 

It feels like the ending that it is.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

The months pass, as they do. The Dragonborn is a more frequent visitor, and he always returns with new scars, new stories. He speaks of his battles, of the quests he has been on, of the words he has learned, the people he has met. He does not talk about the civil war or the unrest still prevalent throughout Skyrim. He instead talks about his housecarl, John, and the friendship that has begun to bloom between them, despite John's initial hesitance about being housecarl to the Dragonborn. He talks about the court mage, Tom, and how he believes John and Tom are in a relationship and how good of a couple they make. His enthusiasm for supporting the two is infectious, and though Steven has never met either of the men, he finds he wishes they are happy with each other.

 

He joins a group called the Companions, and he is filled with pride when he speaks of them, up until he discovers they are a group of werewolves. Even then, he is fascinated and interested, though he has no desire to be any creature of the night. When Kodlak Whitemane dies, the Dragonborn grieves, and Steven sits beside him as he drinks and recalls his mentor, the man who he's come to see as a friend. When his fingers fumble his drink, Steven helps Anthony to the pile of furs and watches over his sleep.

 

The Dragonborn travels near and far, does things Viintaas had never even dreamed possible, and he always returns to tell the stories with a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his lips. Anthony is a bard, a thief, a warrior, an assassin, a sorcerer, and everything in between, but above all that he's the Dragonborn, an adventurer.

 

"Y'know, I think you're like, the closest thing I've got to a home," Anthony says one night, alcohol slurring his speech. He rolls his head to look at Steven, a dopey grin stretching across his face when he finally catches sight of his dragon. "Haven't felt so...at home since I was back in Kvatch." The smile drips off his face like paint on a canvas, and he looks sad. "Never goin' back to Kvatch, am I?" he sighs, and rolls his head back around to stare up at the stone ceiling of the cave.

 

Steven's tail lays across his hips, trying to provide him with a measure of comfort, and he almost feels successful when Anthony falls asleep.

 

Viintaas sometimes feels a tingling at the base of his skull, knows the siren call for all dragons to come to Alduin is sounding, and wonders why his limbs are leaden instead of taking him straight to the Destroyer. When he looks at Anthony and sees his bright smile or his deep frown or his profile or his long, blunt fingers, or the tendons in his neck, or the way his legs look crossed beneath him, he knows.

 

The love he feels is overwhelming, consuming. There can be nothing else. A dovah will love with its whole being, will never turn its back on its love. Viintaas was never meant to love Anthony, but fire will take all, eventually.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

Dragons are notoriously possessive. Steven knows this, Anthony knows this, the entirety of Skyrim probably knows this. Of course this would be how it happened.

 

It happens like this:

 

Anthony comes stumbling up the mountain path, his gait familiar but unsteady. He's crooning on about some Argonian woman or something along those lines, and even without seeing him or being near him, Steven knows he's drunk, can hear it in his warbling and in his awkward, lumbering steps.

 

Steven isn't concerned. He knows that Anthony could walk the path in his sleep, and so he waits, meditating as the Dragonborn meanders down through the caves until he comes to stand before him, swaying on his feet.

 

"Steeeeeven," he crows, drawing his name out for an inordinately long time in proper drunkard fashion.

 

The dragon stares up at the human, who smiles wide at the attention, and Steven finds himself smiling back at him, his tail rising curiously to run over whatever part of Anthony it can reach. "Hello, Anthony," Steven greets, and then the scent hits him, sends him reeling. He smells strongly of alcohol, of a tavern, of sex to Steven's keen sense of smell.

 

Anthony is oblivious, throwing himself onto Steven's lap and grinning up at him like the cat who caught the mouse. "Y'know, you've got a really interesting face. Your scales are like freckles. You know what freckles are? Yeah, and your face fin things are really cool. Your horns look like they could just be grabbed. Is that not dangerous? I don't want you to be at a- at a disavdat- at a disnav- at a- you know what I mean."

 

Steven feels wrath course through his system, the smell of _whores_ overpowering, this close to Anthony. He does not understand his anger, nor does he try to, he just allows it to grow within him as the Dragonborn continues to babble on and on, still smiling at him and lounging across him.

 

Viintaas only realizes he'd been digging his claws into Anthony's legs when the human lets out a yelp of pain. Guilt gnaws at him nearly immediately, chasing away the anger and the momentary sick pleasure he had found in hurting Anthony.

 

"What was that for?" the human pouts with a huff, and Steven shakes his head, feeling oddly as if he's letting Anthony down by experiencing his inexplicable anger.

 

Anthony won't let it go, and presses closer to Steven, arching off of his lap and arranging himself so that he straddles the dragon, frowning at him when their faces are level. Viintaas rears his head back, away from the proximity, but the Dragonborn follows him, frown deepening as he pushes his hands at Steven's chest. They have been physically close before, and Anthony had wandering hands when he's drunk, but it's never been like this, so...charged. Electrifying.

 

"Something's bothering you," Anthony says, and he blinks hard several times, as if that will get rid of the alcohol in his system. "What's happened, Steven?"

 

The sound of his name causes the dragon's heart to palpitate, shuddering in his chest as he meets Anthony's chocolate eyes. He is struck, not for the first time, by how beautiful the Dragonborn is. It is, not for the first time, a painful knowledge, as the Dragonborn is the thing he should not have.

 

Anthony pats Steven's cheek, shocking him out of his reverie, and the dragon immediately goes to cover Anthony's hand with his own, blinking at him. Viintaas swallows, and tries not to nuzzle into the Dragonborn's hand. "I am fine," he says, and hopes it sounds convincing, because he can smell others all over Anthony and it's making his blood boil.

 

Steven must not be convincing enough, or perhaps Anthony knows his tells, after the months they've known each other, because he shakes his head and looks at him more concernedly, leaning closer. "You aren't. What's wrong? Is it something I did?"

 

Viintaas keeps his eyes locked onto Anthony's, not willing to allow them to waver and dip down to look at his lips. "I am fine, Anthony," he says again, hoping his use of the human's name will distract him.

 

Once more, the man is not dissuaded. "No. I know you," he says, and shifts ever closer, his hips pressing  against Steven's as he leans into him, bringing them chest to chest. His eyes are dark, the brown nearly swallowed by the black, and Viintaas stares at him with wide eyes, unsure of what's happening.

 

"Dovahkiin," he rasps, swallowing, and the man grins slowly, his fingers trailing up Steven's chest. This is sudden, too sudden, and Viintaas finds himself utterly terrified, more than he has ever been in all his years.

 

"I know you, dragon," Anthony whispers, and Steven can feel the human's breath on his lips, damp and warm. "This bothers you. You don't know what to make of this, do you? Do you believe I haven't seen the looks, felt the touches? I know the signs better than you. You're attracted to me, dovah," he says through bared teeth, and Viintaas grabs at his legs, digging his claws in just hard enough to be on the right side of pain.

 

His eyes burn as he meets Anthony's, having felt his fear melt away in the face of the human's assuming words. "You know little, human," he hisses, leaning toward him and far into his personal space until their noses nearly touch. "Fun zey hi laan zey," he commands.

 

Anthony bites his lip, and Viintaas tightens his grip on his thighs. "I don't know what you just said," the Dragonborn says coyly and the dragon snarls at him, standing with Anthony still held easily against him. The human's eyes go wide and his fingers twitch against Steven's chest, just before his back meets the wall and the air rushes out of him.

 

Viintaas holds him against the stone wall, claws pressed to his throat but not pushing in, pupils blown wide and sharp teeth exposed. "Tell me you want me," he repeats, and feels Anthony's pulse quicken beneath his fingers.

 

"Z-Zu'u laan hi," the Dragonborn says, voice quavering. The dragon's lips pull back further from his teeth, and the human thinks he might be devoured. "Lig," he croaks, and Viintaas breaks.

 

Anthony has enough time to register that he's been thrown onto the pile of furs before he is set upon by the dragon. His wrists are held easily above his head and his hair is pulled, forcing his head back to expose his neck. He feels more sober than he has in months as Viintaas leans down next to his head to whisper in his ear.

 

"Zu'u fen al hi, Dovahkiin. Dovah do not share. If you choose this, there can be no one else," Anthony is told, and he feels too big for his skin, like he'll burst from the pressure building at the base of his skull. He realizes he wants that. He wants to belong, to have and be had.

 

"Yes," he finds himself saying. "Please, lig, yes. No one else, Viintaas," the name sends pleasure rocketing down the dragon's spine, "only you, dii dovah."

 

Steven finds himself crumbling, his foundations shaking, but Anthony is there and he makes everything worth it. "Dii hil. Dii. Hi los dii nu, dii fariik." He presses a reverent kiss to his human's temple, feeling it is aptly named as a place of worship. "Zu'u umriid hi," he breathes into his love's skin, and his being rejoices, ecstatic that he can do this, have this.

 

"Hin," Anthony agrees, and is rewarded by Steven's grip tightening on his hair and pulling his head back further.

 

The dragon surveys his human's neck, snarling at the bruises and scratches. "You smell of whore," he says. He licks a stripe up Anthony's neck, nipping at his jaw. "Are you a whore, Dragonborn?"

 

Anthony lets out a shuddering breath, shaking his head. "No. I'm not a whore."

 

Viintaas presses kisses over his throat, occasionally scraping his teeth over the skin. "No?" he asks, switching his gentle, teasing kisses to bites, leaving marks all down Anthony's neck. "I believe you. But," the hand in Anthony's hair tugs, pulling him to meet Steven's eyes, "Hi lost liin voth wiizaan. Zu'u sahlon ek pah avok hi.Hi bo het mindin, wah zey. Drey hi mindok tol hi lost dii?"

 

The Dragonborn swallows, his lips working as if to say something, but nothing comes out. Steven doesn't deny himself the urge to kiss his human, smashing their lips together, licking into Anthony's mouth and biting at his lips, tasting his blood and feeling the exhilaration of the hunt, of claiming your prey. When he pulls back, Anthony's lips are red and spit-slick, his hips twitching upwards in search of friction as he whines plaintively in the back of his throat.

 

Steven releases Anthony's hair, his now-free hand skating down the human's chest until he can wrap his hand around Anthony's erection. The man keens, throwing his head back and thrusting his hips up into the dragon's hand.

 

"Lig, lig, Viintaas," the Dragonborn pants, arms straining in the dragon's grip. "Please, Steven," he repeats, forcing his eyes open so he can look at his dovah. The dragon squeezes him, drawing another loud whine from him. "Lig, lig, lig, lig," the man pleads.

 

The dragon has mercy on him, instead gripping his hip. "If I release your hands and go to get something, will you promise not to touch yourself?"

 

Anthony blinks up at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, before nodding jerkily. "Yeah, I can do that."

 

Viintaas smiles at him and slides his hand adoringly down his human's thigh before letting Anthony go and rising to his feet in one fluid motion. "Undress yourself while I am gone. I will return shortly." Steven hears Anthony moving as he turns and starts toward the mouth of the cave, searching for the pot of oil he keeps somewhere. After searching for it and finding it, he goes back to Anthony victoriously, finding the human naked and laying on his stomach, fingers curled into the furs beneath him. The dragon surveys him hungrily, looking over all of him, his face pressed into the furs, his back arched and ass presented out toward Steven. The dragon does the only thing that seems logical when faced with such a gift. He falls to his knees behind his human, spreads him wide, and licks into him.

 

Anthony keens and whines and undulates his hips, a stream of nonsense spewing from his mouth as the dragon tongues him open. The Dragonborn slicks his fingers and presses them in alongside his dragon's tongue, opening himself to him, and he's rewarded by the dragon's hands leaving him, then the telltale rustle of clothing being removed. The dragon never removes his tongue, up until he's pushing into Anthony, hands gripping the Dragonborn's hips tightly, almost too tightly, sure to leave bruises.

 

When Steven is fully sheathed in Anthony, when both of them are breathing shallow, harsh pants, the dragon pries a hand free from Anthony's hip and grabs at the human's hand, squeezing his slippery fingers.

 

Viintaas begins to move, and they're both lost. Steven kisses Anthony between his shoulder blades, kisses his shoulders, kisses anywhere he can reach as his hips shift of their own accord. His tail wraps around Anthony's thigh, then snakes around to trail over his dripping cock.

 

They fall apart together, the height of the crescendo, Steven's teeth sinking into Anthony's shoulder like a claim as the song decrescendos into silence. They breathe the same damp air, Steven's hips still pushed flush against Anthony's and his chest still aligned with the human's back. The Dragonborn's elbows are locked, and if they weren't they'd be trembling and he'd be face down in the pile of pelts.

 

Viintaas slowly comes to himself, and disengages, sliding out while Anthony winces. Steven lays his human out, trying to rub life back into his limbs while he lays there without response.

 

"Did you fuckin' bite me?" Anthony finally asks, and Steven hums, smiling to himself. "Really, is that gonna get infected or something?"

 

Steven presses his face to his bite, licking at it and nearly purring into contentment. "It should not. To bite one's mate, to claim them, is a part of the dragon mating ritual."

 

Anthony struggles feebly to turn onto his back for a second, but stills with a light touch to his hip. He grunts and instead settles for frowning sideways at the dragon. "It's traditional to bite the shit out of your partner? This thing hurts, Steven," he says, and Viintaas cannot for the life of him quell the smile on his face.

 

"It will stop hurting eventually. It should make a nice scar, and they will all know you are mine," he says, sounding pleased, and the human tries to move again, once more stopped with a gentle touch.

 

"Damn. If I'd known being yours meant I'd get a giant fucking bite mark to claim me as yours forever, I wouldn't've gone along with this," he grouses, and Viintaas stiffens, going very, very still.

 

The dragon's mind is a whirlwind. His human doesn't want him, doesn't want the bite, doesn't want to be tied to him and be his forever. He's made a terrible mistake, hasn't he? Anthony had _lied_ to him, had said _hin_ and had _lied_. Viintaas cannot breathe, there is fire burning in his lungs and in his brain and in his eyes and then-

 

Cool water, a hand on his cheek, concerned brown eyes peering up at him. He covers his human's - _the_ human's - hand with his own, and feels vulnerable, as if Anthony can see into every part of him. "You do not want me," he says for clarification, voice rough.

 

"No, no, no, I didn't- Shit, I was trying to make a joke. Horrible timing, I'm so sorry. No, of course I want you. I'm yours. Your mate. Forever. I didn't know about the bite but it's fine, it's okay, I kinda like it. Everyone will know I'm yours, right? That's what I want. I don't want there to be any doubt, ever," Anthony says, so earnest and heartfelt. He guides his dragon's hand over top of the bite mark and maintains eye contact. "Hin. Zu'u los _hin_. Unstiid. Nol nu erei dinok."

 

Viintaas smiles, then, feeling relieved and foolish. Of course the Dragonborn was making a joke. "Mahfaeraak," he agrees, "nol nu erei dinok, dii hil."

 

Anthony smiles back at him, pulling the dragon down next to him and curling against his chest. "You're so warm," he says, and Viintaas pulls him closer, wrapping around him as best he can.

 

"If you wish, you will never be cold again," he promises, and the human chuffs lightly into his neck before settling for sleep, warm and smooth and wonderfully present, and Viintaas has never loved anything more.


	4. Chapter 4

The Dragonborn has made quite a name for himself, enough that Laatkul comes to visit.

 

The jade dragon doesn't seem happy about visiting, but his back straightens under Steven's gaze and he pulls his lips back from his teeth. "Zu'u fen aav hi wah Alduin," he says, and the dovah stare each other down silently while Anthony watches in confusion.

 

Viintaas allows himself to grin when Laatkul blinks. "Faal Dovahkiin lost ven, dreh rok ni?"

 

Laatkul shakes his head, then turns and flies away, leaving a smug dragon and a confused human in his wake. Anthony doesn't ask and Steven doesn't tell.

 

The Dragonborn stays away for weeks instead of months, and when he visits Viintaas feels elation like he is floating and so much love he fears his chest will burst. Anthony is his and he is Anthony's, and it's the calm before the storm, he knows, but he will do what he can with the time he's been given.

 

"A lot of dragons have turned against Alduin, you know," the human says one night, his head on Steven's chest.

 

"Have they?" the dragon asks, and Anthony likes the way his voice rumbles through his chest.

 

"They have. Not only Laatkul, but others, friends of Laatkul, other dovah I've encountered and turned to our cause," he says.

 

Viintaas is pleased. " _Our_ cause?" he asks teasingly, and the human drums his blunt fingers against his dragon's hip.

 

"Of course, our cause. I would be nothing if not for you," he says.

 

Steven snorts in derision. "Nothing if not for me, you say, while you were everything, even before me. Some destinies are laid out, Dovahkiin, and you were always meant to be great."

 

Anthony lifts his head, placing his palms on Steven's chest and frowning up at him. "Then you were meant to be great alongside me," he insists, and trails one hand over his love's smooth stomach to grab his hand, twining their fingers together. "Our destinies must be interlocking. I can't see myself without you."

 

Viintaas's chest swells with warmth beneath Anthony's palm and he places his free hand over the bite on Anthony's shoulder, slightly faded with time. The angle is awkward, so Anthony slides his fingers down over Steven's ribs, lowering his shoulder for the dragon. His head thumps back onto his dragon's chest and he closes his eyes.

 

"Zu'u lokaal hi," Steven says, as he does every night Anthony stays with him.

 

"I love you, too," Anthony replies, as he does every time.

 

In another world, perhaps, Viintaas may have sided with Alduin. In another world where he did not meet the Dragonborn, or had fought him when they had first met. In any world there must be a battle in which all worlds collide and stars and legends are born, where the fabric of time and space are ripped to shreds and where a hero will emerge victorious. In any world, a side must be taken.

 

In any world, whatever side you pick is the losing side.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

"I have learned...too much, in these months," Anthony says, eyes trained on the wall in front of him. His comment is met with silence, but he does not look over at Viintaas, as the dragon has expected he would. He is ready to leave, had been just about to leave, when he began speaking. "I have met with a dovah named Paarthurnax, and soon I'll have to go down into a Dwemer ruin called Blackreach to locate an Elder Scroll."

 

Viintaas feels worried. Paarthurnax was once Alduin's most feared general and now he's helping the Dragonborn defeat him? "Do you trust Paarthurnax?" he tentatively asks his human, and the man finally looks at Steven.

 

"It's all I've got, lokaal. The sooner I leave, the better, but I had to...say goodbye. I don't know when I will return," he admits, and his eyes fall to the ground.

 

"You will return," Viintaas says, and Anthony nods.

 

"Always. I will always return to you," he affirms, and seems to steel himself for whatever comes his way. He brushes his lips against Steven's cheek on his way out, and then he's gone and Viintaas is left with his worry.

 

When the human returns weeks later, he is dead on his feet. He collapses onto the pile of furs, which has grown substantially in past months, and sleeps for nearly an entire day. When he wakes, he is ravenously hungry, so he is fed. After, when he wipes at his mouth and stifles a yawn, he begins to tell Viintaas about what he'd learned.

 

He knows how to stop Alduin, but he'll need Steven's help. Of course, Steven helps. Despite his trepidation, he allows Anthony to use Dragonrend on him, hating the oily feeling of the Thu'um sliding over him, as he always does. When the Dragonborn thinks he is ready, he decides to go face Alduin.

 

Viintaas carries him to the Throat of the World, but lets him ascend to the summit on his own. He understands himself the desire to complete the pilgrimage to the top, as he had done when he was much younger and the steps leading up were much less worn by time and countless feet upon them.

 

The battle is something to behold. Alduin is soundly defeated by the Dragonborn's use of his debilitating Thu'um and expert swordsmanship. That battle does not mark the end, however, as Alduin flees "with his tail between his legs" as the human saying goes.

 

There is much to be done afterwards. Dragonsreach is to be used for its intended purpose again, but the Jarl takes convincing. A dovah named Odahviing is captured and when he is in his chains, he is impressed by the Dragonborn.

 

"Zu'u sahlon hin piraan nau mok, Viintaas," Odahviing says, and he reveals his sharp teeth in a feral smile as he inhales again. "Waan hi lost ni nalkun drehlaan ful, Zu'u uld lost lost wah piraan mok dimaar."

 

Viintaas steps in front of his human, baring his own teeth, but not in a smile. "Alduin," he demands, and Odahviing huffs.

 

"Lost nii hin ven," the dragon says. "Alduin lost bovul wah Sovngarde, Dovahkiin. Til los miiraak ko fah faan Skuldafn, lok ko faal Velothi Strunmah. Wah viik Alduin, hi kent bo wah Sovngarde."

 

Viintaas repeats the message curtly, to forego any mistranslations. Anthony seems suspicious. "Why are you so forthcoming with the information, Odahviing?" he asks, and the dragon gives a great shrug.

 

"Faal Al lost gevahzen okmaar wah kos sahlo vos mun wah viik mok ont. Sahlom los ni koziir kinbok fend lost," he explains, and Anthony chews at a corner of his fingernail.

 

"Can you fly us there?" he directs the question toward Viintaas.

 

Odahviing huffs out a laugh. "Viintaas dreh ni mindok ven wah Skuldafn. Nunon daar wo lost mid mindok do Skuldafn. Zu'u fen kuz hi til, Dovahkiin. Lahvroth fos uld hi lost, ahrk mu fent lif nau hin rot."

 

Anthony looks over at Steven, and the dragon nods. "If Odahviing believes Alduin to be weak...a weak dovah is not one others look to for guidance," he says. "Odahviing will take you there, and I will come with you, of course. Call the dovah you have convinced, if they are not already on their way. I believe all dovah can sense the finality in the air."

 

The Dragonborn nods, and Viintaas doesn't stay around to listen, instead ducking back inside Dragonsreach, looking around at all the human things he hasn't seen in ages. It's fascinating, to see all the things he'd missed out on while he was dead.

 

"Excuse me, are you, uh, Steven?" a voice asks from behind him, and he turns to find a dark-haired man standing behind him, looking apprehensive.

 

"I am," Viintaas says, smiling at him in the hopes of easing his nerves.

 

The human smiles back, a quick flash of upturned lips. "I don't know if you've heard about me at all, I would expect not since Anthony is...Anthony, but my name is John. I'm-"

 

"Anthony's housecarl," Viintaas finishes, and his smile grows warmer, realer. "He speaks fondly of you."

 

John looks pleased at this, and gestures for Viintaas to follow him. "Since you've heard good things about me and you're very busy, someone wants to meet you, just for a moment. He's spent his life studying dragons, and he'd give anything to be able to see one in human form up close."

 

Steven allows the human to lead him, already knowing who they're going to see. Anthony had mentioned Tom's interest in dovah, and Steven supposes their meeting has been a long time coming.

 

The court wizard is toiling away at the alchemy table when they enter, and John doesn't interrupt him until he straightens, holding an uncapped potion.

 

"Tom?" John says with a polite cough, and the wizard turns to look at him, strange glass over his eyes. His eyes widen behind the glass, and he sets the potion down on the alchemy table.

 

"Dovah," Tom breathes, eyes dancing over Steven's form as if he can't see enough. "You- You must be Viintaas. Anth- The Dragonborn has told us much about you." The mage takes an abortive step forward, stopping before his foot touches the ground again. "You are...not how I envisioned," he admits.

 

Steven arches an eyebrow, feeling an amused smile pulling at his lips. "Disappointed?" he asks, and Tom is quick to shake his head, eyes wide.

 

"No! No, of course not, dovah. I was just expecting you to be, well, taller, I suppose. More fearsome. You're very, how do I put this, normal? Looking past the horns and the scales and the tail and the teeth and the claws, you look just like a human," he says, and Viintaas snorts.

 

"Dovah take many shapes, jul. Some dovah are Elves, some are Dwarves, some are Argonians and Khajiits. Humans do not understand much about dovah, and even dovah do not understand it all. You are doing well, Tom," Steven says, and the court mage seems to brighten, smiling wide at the dragon, something akin to adoration in his eyes.

 

John steps forward, gently touches Tom's forearm to get his attention, and says, "Steven should go. You can talk to him later, after Anthony defeats Alduin."

 

Tom nods, then turns back to Viintaas. "I would be honored to learn more about dovah, if you can spare the time," he says, and the dragon smiles, hoping that's answer enough as he hurries back to Anthony.

 

Steven stands beside his human, and the dovah assembled see the fire in his eyes, see the fierce need to protect Anthony at all costs, from anything. The Dragonborn swings himself up onto Odahviing's back, the dragon stretches his wings, and they're all off to Skuldafn, the sound of dragon wings beating the air near deafening.

 

When they're all assembled before the portal, Anthony turns to look at the dovah. "It is the end," he says, and he seems distant. "We will go to Sovngarde, we will defeat Alduin, and Nirn will be safe. If this is to be the last time, I will thank you all. I am not of your kind, yet you support me over Alduin, and for this I thank you."

 

Laatkul shakes his head. "Dovahkiin," he says, "you are one of us. A man with the heart of a dovah. Save your thanks for when the battle is over."

 

Anthony chews on his lips, then nods. "To Sovngarde," he says, and the dovah echo his words as they enter the world of the dead.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

It happens in slow motion, but in the blink of an eye.

 

Anthony sinks his blade into Alduin's skull, and the dragon's claw punches through his armor, into his chest. There is the roar of battle, but Viintaas hears nothing. There are vacuums in his head and heart as he watches his human.

 

Ysgramor shouts something and Alduin turns to bright firelight, leaving not even his bones behind as he is burned from existence. Anthony falls, landing with a sickening crunch on the ground.

 

The Dragonborn gasps, eyes unseeing as he stares up at the sky, and Viintaas runs to him, falling to his knees and ripping open his armor to place a hand over the puncture wound.

 

"Anthony," he says, and the human's eyes slowly drift to him.

 

His mouth works without noise for a few moments, his breathing harsh and shallow. "Alduin...dead?" he chokes, and Steven nods.

 

"Yes, yes, Alduin is dead. You killed him, Dovahkiin. You won," Viintaas tells him, and Anthony coughs, blood dribbling from his lips. Steven feels panicked, hand pressing more forcefully against his chest. "You must breathe, you must live. Use your magic, the magic you told me of. You can heal yourself."

 

Anthony's breath rasps out. "Can't," he says, "too weak."

 

"He cannot die here, dovah," Ysgramor says, and Viintaas glares at him.

 

"He will not die," he growls, and Ysgramor puts up a placating hand.

 

"If you move quickly, perhaps not. This is the land of the dead, dovah, but here there is no 'living' and no 'dead.' They are one in the same in this place. Alduin is gone, and if you remain here, your Dragonborn might be, too." Steven digests this for a moment, and then Ysgramor speaks again. "Take him back to Skyrim, and hurry. It may be your only chance to save him, as here he will simply cease to be."

 

Viintaas takes the Dragonborn away, dimly aware of the other dovah accompanying him as he finds himself, oddly, on the Throat of the World. It is snowing, and Anthony's blood stains that beneath him as he breathes in the snowflakes.

 

"Tired, Steven," Anthony says, his voice so frail and small, and Viintaas cannot do anything as his eyes slip closed. "Need...sleep," he says.

 

Vintaas shakes him, just enough to keep him from sleeping, trying not to cause him more pain. "Do not sleep, Dovahkiin. Do not sleep." He turns to the dovah around him. "Someone, someone fetch a healer, please, someone save the Dragonborn," he begs them, then looks back at his love, his heart which grows colder with every passing moment.

 

"Lokaal...hi," the human breathes to his dragon, and then he goes far too still.

 

"No. Dragonborn. Dovahkiin. Please. Lig. Open your eyes, Dragonborn, please. Alduin is dead, you are safe. Dovahkiin, lig. Dreh ni dreh daar wah zey, Dovahkiin. Please, Anthony. Please," Viintaas begs, but the Dragonborn does not open his eyes, does not respond. He lays crumpled and small, and Steven feels a great pain rising, consuming him. "Lig, fariik. Dii hil, dii lokaal, bex hin miin. Dreh ni lif zey. Zu'u lokaal hi, lig bex hin miin," he says, and knows he is crying, his claws digging into his human's chest. Steven shakes him again, and when even that garners no response, he feels himself break.

 

"Vopraan vok! Bex hin miin, ruth hi! Nu los ni tiid wah laag, Dovahkiin, hi kent vopraan vok," he says, shaking the human harder, searching his love's face for any sign of waking up. There is nothing, nothing at all, and a hand is on his shoulder, a voice in his ear telling him to stop.

 

"Viintaas," the voice says, but the dragon doesn't look up from where he has bowed his head over his beloved. "Zu'u los krosis."

 

"Niid. He cannot be gone," Viintaas replies, but the tears streaming down his cheeks know, the ache in his chest knows, the heaviness of his heart knows. "I cannot live without him."

 

The hand on his shoulder retracts, Steven hears Laatkul step back, giving him room. Viintaas lets out a harsh sob, unable to hold it in, and the floodgates are open. He pulls his cold human to his chest, crying uncontrollably into his neck, feeling, as the humans call it, heartbroken. He thinks it is an apt description for the pain in his chest, the hurt the resonates throughout his entire being.

 

As Viintaas cries, the dragons, those left, form a loose circle around him, all changing into beasts and watching over their fallen brethren. They bow their heads in respect, and although they may not have always seen Steven's way, he is their brother, and both himself and the Dragonborn had proven themselves, in the end. The dovah grieve as they grieve for their own, and Viintaas grieves as if he has lost part of himself, and in a way he has lost himself completely, as he will never be whole again.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

A statue is carved to commemorate the Dragonborn, to remind the humans of his noble sacrifice so that they might live. In it, a dovah stands behind him, and a nondescript human at his side, and many believe the dragon to be Alduin and the human to be his housecarl and closest friend, John. Those who knew Anthony know the dragon and the human to be one. Viintaas.

 

The dragon does not leave his cave for months. He does not eat or drink or meditate. He becomes nearly skeletal, weak and empty, and he does not care. He has no purpose without the other half of his heart.

 

The portal to Sovngarde closes, and with it so does something in the dragon's mind. He is a blank slate, he is nothing. Sleep calls to him, and him alone, so he answers.

 

Some, those who knew, still pay tribute to the dragon in his lonely cave. They bring him Anthony's things while he sleeps, unsure of what else to do with it all, since the Dragonborn's crypt is sealed.

 

But eventually the humans forget about the sleeping dragon, instead focusing on the ones who yet live, the dovah who have decided to try and live harmoniously with mortals, at Paarthurnax's suggestion. John and Tom believe the Dragonborn would have been proud to live in a world such as the one they are building.

 

Perhaps when Viintaas is awake he will join them. Perhaps the dragon will never wake. Perhaps he is already gone, in Sovngarde with his beloved, or maybe their souls have reunited elsewhere. Perhaps they will have life, death, and all that follows it. Perhaps eventually, he will be entirely forgotten, with only the statue of himself and his heart to be remembered by in some far-off time. Perhaps, even now, all that is left of him are the words "Wah lahney mahfaeraak fund seik lot somah." They are his legacy and his end.

 

To live forever would mean great tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so ends mahfaeraak. i hope you enjoyed it.


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